


Buy

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Garak eyes a customer.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	Buy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He emerges from the changing room to examine himself in the full-length mirror mounted against the nearest pillar. Originally, Elim had installed mirrors inside the changing rooms themselves, because of course that would’ve made the most sense. But then he wouldn’t actually get to _see_ each new garment on Julian Bashir as he tries them on. This way, Elim can remain behind his counter, right where he’s supposed to be, and still watch the handsome doctor come out in new clothes. Julian peers curiously at his reflection, twisting and turning into striking new poses, trying to examine himself from every angle. Elim’s latest stock fits him exquisitely, likely because Elim is always sure to order Julian’s size.

Julian tries to see behind himself, as though checking if the emerald green shirt complements his rear, when in fact it doesn’t _quite_ reach that far down. It sweeps over the slender curve of his hips, twisting up his trim back and draping down his sloping shoulders, the golden trim a perfect complement to his tanned skin. Elim certainly approves.

He would approve even more if Julian had chosen one of the more _revealing_ pieces. Elim has a number of new lace garments that are both figure hugging and expose a good deal more skin. He could also go for the sheer black Rigelian nylon, or the knit sweater with such large loops between each stitch that Elim would likely get a tantalizing peak at Julian’s dark brown nipples. 

A collection of old-fashioned corsets line the back wall, and as Julian smoothes his current shirt over his waist, Elim contemplates stitching him into one. He has the figure for it—he’ already quite thin, but _strong_ , sensible; surely they could come to an agreement on how tight to tie it. Elim wouldn’t require anything too strenuous. He’d just like to the see the crisscrossing ribbon trailing gracefully down Julian’s long back. 

He’d like to see the bow tied at the bottom, so it could trail down Julian’s ripe rear end, which opens up a whole new train of thought: all the things Elim would like to slip onto Julian’s lower half. And, of course, the things he’d like to peel _off_ of it.

Julian wanders back from the mirror, ducking into the changing room, and when he withdraws a minute later, he has his uniform draped over his arm. He comes to the counter in Elim’s top, announcing happily, “I’ll take it.”

“Lovely,” Elim answers. “It’s on the house.”

Julian’s pretty lips drop into a frown, his brows lifting. He should just say _thank you_ , but of course, he’s much too clever to think it’s _free_. Everything comes at a price. But Julian pays Elim’s every lunch they share together. Julian notes, “You won’t make much money like that.”

Elim sighs, “My dear doctor, your smile is worth so much more to me than _money_.”

Julian snorts. He looks genuinely amused, though Elim’s hardly joking. He acknowledges: “Thank you.”

And he leaves, looking absolutely spectacular.


End file.
